SAN JOSE — Aida Solorio was in a panic over her two “rebellious” teenage sons, so after church services on Sunday she took a chance on asking someone for help over a cup of coffee.

“They’re staying out late on the streets, and I don’t know where they are,” she said in Spanish at Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church on the East Side. “I don’t know if they’re in involved with gangs or not. They won’t tell me anything.”

San Jose police Officer Saul Duran listened intently and nodded his head. In his line of work, he’s heard and seen this story play out many times before, often with tragic endings: Low-income, struggling, immigrant parents lose control over their young sons in neighborhoods where ruthless street gangs lure recruits any way they can.

“I teach classes for parents like you,” the tall officer said in Spanish to Solorio, who seemed taken aback by his quick offer of concrete help. “The classes help them deal with strong-willed youth, drugs and violence, and they can help your kids in school.”

In a church hall where the late Cesar Chavez cut his teeth as a community organizer before launching the United Farm Workers union, the city’s Police Department held its second “Coffee with a Cop,” or in this case, “Cafe con la Policia.” Dozens of parishioners in their Sunday finest mingled with Spanish-speaking officers in navy blue patrol uniforms with holstered handguns.

The Rev. Jon Pedigo had encouraged his flock to meet the cops after Sunday’s service and to ask them anything they wanted, and police Chief Eddie Garcia earlier had urged his officers to get to know the people they are charged with protecting.

“We thought this would be the perfect, neutral meeting ground,” Pedigo said. The popular Catholic priest and social activist was still wearing his ceremonial vestments and posing for photos with some officers — at their request. “In this area it could be dangerous to be seen talking with the police on the streets.”

The coffee klatch also was a homecoming for Sgt. Rebecca Marquez, who is spearheading the program with Officer Stella Cruz. Marquez grew up in the neighborhood and attended Guadalupe church, where her late father served as a deacon. For 15 years she patrolled the same area — Mary-4 in police code — and even busted a few people she knew from childhood.

“We’re holding these coffees so people can get to know the person behind the uniform and the badge,” Marquez said. “We want them to have confidence in the police, and we want the police officers to feel like they are part of the community.”

San Jose is one of the largest and newest cities to embrace Coffee with a Cop, which started about five years ago in the Southern California town of Hawthorne and has spread to more 2,000 departments in the United States and seven other countries.

At Guadalupe church’s McDonnell Hall, young boys and girls giggled and posed for photos on five police motorcycles. Mostly in English, the youngsters asked the officers about careers in law enforcement. Inside, the adults had more pressing matters in mind.

Carmen Castillo told Officer Veronica Martinez a distressing story that spoke to the anything-goes, nobody-cares attitudes that often emerge in neglected or under-policed neighborhoods.

“There was a man who was exposing himself down the street, showing his parts, so I called 911,” said Castillo, a Mexican immigrant who lives near the church with her husband and young son. “But the police didn’t come in time. What are we supposed to do if it happens again?”

Martinez did not offer an excuse, but she did explain the reductions in manpower over the past several years that result in officers responding to violent crimes first. Martinez assured Castillo that the officers who finally did respond filed a report based on her information. Castillo said she understood the problem but wished for more.

“I see the police here as mostly good,” the Mexican immigrant said. “I think at the moment they have less personnel than they need, but I’m glad to see they are here with us today.”